


All Hallow’s Eve

by DarkxPrince, DarkXPrincess



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Dragon Satya "Symmetra" Vaswani, F/F, Halloween event, Possessed Fareeha "Pharah" Amari, Rime Sombra, Witch Angela "Mercy" Ziegler
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-29
Updated: 2019-06-16
Packaged: 2019-08-09 13:16:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16450673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkxPrince/pseuds/DarkxPrince, https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkXPrincess/pseuds/DarkXPrincess
Summary: All Hallow's Eve is here and the Witch has gathered her allies once more to assault the castle of Adlersbrunn. Yet there is more to the Witch's plan and ambitions and they are all finally coming together.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you my lovely wife (DarkXPrincess) for helping me write this. Without your editing and writing skills I wouldn't have been able to finish this.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the night before All Hallow's Eve and the Witch has gathered her allies once more. The Dragon is drawn towards the Rime despite her better judgement. And alone in her hut, the Witch reflects on what started it all.

They had been summoned again.

Just as they had been summoned last year.

Just like all the other All Hallow’s Eves before that.

Satya Vaswani – or as her temporary allies called her “The Summoner” – stood before the Witch’s hut with all the rest who had been summoned. As always the Reaper was present; the jack-o-lantern serving as his head cast a soft glow upon the shadows within which he stood. Junkenstein and his hideous monstrosity were once again brought back to life, thanks to the Witch’s necromancy. Then there were the newcomers; those who owed a favor to the Witch within the past year. The Jiangshi stood off to the side, rocking back and forth upon her feet looking the most out of place of them all. The Banshee, which stood off to the side, was having – ironically – a quiet conversation with the Swamp Monster. Yet none of them had caught Satya’s attention as much as the _Rime_ had.

The Rime stood close enough that Satya could feel the fire heating within herself, burning hot enough to combat the Rime’s own freezing nature. In all honesty, Satya wasn’t even sure what drew her to the ice dragon. Perhaps it was just the fact that she wasn’t the only dragon as she had once thought. It certainly couldn’t be anything else; they were as different in personality as their elements were. Where Satya preferred all things in an orderly fashion, the Rime – or _Sombra_ , as the ice dragon had introduced herself – clearly didn’t care about order and appeared to prefer chaos. Even so, there was something oddly appealing about Sombra’s carefree nature. Which was … odd, to say the least. What possible advantage could there be to being so carefree?

Where was the structure? Where was the discipline? The regulation? The management? The symmetry? The _perfection_ of all things in order? What did chaos bring? It brought nothing but anarchy and discord and turmoil. Just as ice stood as antithetical to fire; so did Sombra’s very nature, which was the exact contradiction to Satya’s own. Then why was she so drawn to her!?! The two of them were nothing alike. Sure they were both serving the Witch but other than that they were polar opposites. Just as fire and ice, and heaven and hell warred, so did they. Then why did she want to be with her? Was this attraction as fatal as the structure, the discipline they had all been denied? Would it lend hand to her ultimate destruction? A small puff of fire escaped her mouth as Satya huffed in annoyance.

Blissfully, her attention was drawn skyward as the Witch finally deigned to appear. As always, the Witch was perched upon her broom, legs crossed and a sneer on her face. Next to the Witch, held aloft upon magical wings, was the ever loyal bodyguard … the _Possessed_. Satya suppressed the urge to growl like a common animal. There were few things that could unnerve a mighty dragon such as herself. Necromancy, however, was one of the only things which could ever set her on edge. Not that any form of necromancy was ever a threat to her; the fire raging within her was more than enough to burn any animated corpse to ash.

“Welcome, my allies!” The Witch’s voice boomed around them, drawing everyone’s attention to where she floated above them. “As you are all aware, tomorrow is All Hallows Eve, the night that our powers will be at their strongest.” The Witch’s gaze swept over all of them, seemingly piercing into their souls. “Pair up, and assault the castle once more! Our combined powers will be more than enough to tear through the defenders and lay ruin to them all!”

Satya turned on her heel and walked away even before the Witch had finished giving orders, having no intention of teaming up with anyone. She was a _dragon_ there were few things that could withstand the heat of her flame and fewer things still which could penetrate her hardened scales. She barely took two steps before she felt an _icy_ arm drape itself about her shoulders, “So, what do you say, shall we show them the power of fire and ice?”

Satya allowed the fire within her to burn slightly hotter; steam rising from where the Rime’s arm met her molten skin. “Do as you will,” Satya responded.

\----------------------------------

The Witch watched as her “allies” left to make their final preparations, making her way into her hut.  Sitting upon her chair, she hunched over the table and began to mull over the castle’s map, figuring out the best infiltrations but also any backups she could think of. There shouldn’t be any stone left unturned if she was going to defeat them once and for all. Yet she was also trying to figure out where the object she was looking for could be. By all accounts, it was somewhere within the castle and it should have made itself known. Did the Lord of the castle know of what she wanted and hid it away? No, that shouldn’t be possible. Without a magical sense of some kind, one wouldn’t even be able to see it. Unless … could it have taken some kind of corporeal form?

The Witch leaned back in her chair, head lolling to the side to gaze upon her silent bodyguard. “Oh, stop judging me! I know I should sleep to prepare, but I _cannot_ rest until I know _exactly_ where it is! But if you’re _so exhausted_ by all means…” As always, the animated body didn’t respond, causing her to frown … not that it surprised her, but still, she could hope for a response. How many years had it been…since she had given that body back its life? Far, far too long for her liking.

Rising to her feet, the Witch stood before the Possessed, placing her hand upon the body’s cheek. She chuckled to herself, as ridiculous and sentimental it sounded, she could still remember when this body had been alive. Could still remember the feeling of those warm arms around her waist. Indulging herself a little, the Witch removed the helmet which sat upon the Possessed’s head, gazing up into the pure white eyes. She could still remember the loving look in those once brown eyes. The smile that always graced those lips whenever they were together. She could still remember the day that Fareeha Amari – a warrior from a faraway land – wandered by her hut.

She had been a much younger witch yet still much older than most mortals. Back then, she had been known as benevolent healer, helping those who came to her hut and asking for nothing in return. Fareeha had not been the first warrior or solider to come to her either asking for healing from battle wounds or requesting a potion to help them in battles to come. The warrior was stronger than most, blood trickling down from skin hidden by hand-crafted, intricate armor. Her aura and strength immediately pulling the young witch in. Though it was so long ago now, she could still hear the conversation ringing in her ears, her beloved’s light laughter sending chills down her spine. The way it always did especially as their bodies entwined…

Oh, if only they could return to those carefree days. Where the world only reached as far as her hut’s walls or the forest’s boundary. Yet those days had been destined to remain short, as the Lord of Adlersbrunn visited her hut. He had heard tales of the Egyptian General which roamed the lands seeking to bring justice wherever she went. The Lord of Adlersbrunn wished to recruit Fareeha into his service to help him bring glory and honor to his land. Godsdamn why did Fareeha have to join the old fool?! Why did that old fool have to send her to face the dangerous monsters?! And why did Fareeha’s ridiculous sense of _honor_ and _justice_ prevent her from leaving his service?! And above all else, WHY DID SHE HAVE TO DIE!

Now was not the time to let her emotions take over her and yet… She balled her hands into fists and banged on the table. WHY FAREEHA? WHY? Of everyone else, why did it have to be the only being she ever loved? The only person who had ever been worth dying for? The only one who gave a damn about her? WHY WERE THE GODS SO CRUEL?!

Anger crackled within her being, rising to the front, taking over every sense in her body, even though she knew she shouldn’t get worked over something like this. But she couldn’t help it. Every time she looked at the empty husk that stood behind her, guarding her, she was reminded of the person who once inhabited that body. The person who…tears flooded her eyes but she refused to let them fall. She wasn’t weak. Yet then, at the moment of Fareeha’s death … she had been. She simply couldn’t let her Egyptian General fall like that … couldn’t let her die like that … couldn’t let her _leave her alone like that_. And that was why she had cast that spell, even though she hadn’t even been close to the level of mastery in the necromantic arts as she was now. And Fareeha’s soul paid the price for her weakness. Shattering and tearing and ripping into dozens…not dozens, _thousands_ of pieces while all she did was wail on her knees for all she had lost. All she couldn’t reclaim any other way but this.

It was that night, so many years ago, when she promised she would find the remains of Fareeha’s soul and _bind_ them back to their rightful body. And she was so close now! It was only a matter of time before she got her hands on the last shard. All she needed was to get through the castle, get it in her hands, and go. _Casualties be damned_ , she hissed within her mind.

A hand was placed upon her shoulder, jolting her out of her thoughts, sending chills down her back. It had been so long since she felt a comforting hand upon her body, a loving hand pulling her out of her seclusion and misery. Closing her eyes, she could almost imagine it was Fareeha’s warm hand pulling her out of her loneliness. Oh, how she missed her Egyptian General.  If she closed her eyes and concentrated hard enough, she could almost hear that beautiful voice which once whispered in her ear.

“An…ge…la…”

The Witch placed her finger upon her bodyguard’s lips, a smirk upon her own, “Shhhhh, my dear, you’ll be whole soon enough.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Witch comes face to face with the Enchanted Armor. Will it allow her to finish her goal or will she walk away without Fareeha's missing piece? Meanwhile, the battle at the castle's gates rages on, will the defenders stand against the Witch's forces or will they be overwhelmed?

Angela flitted through one of the many windows of the great castle while her … allies … kept the guards busy at the main gates. Except for the battle raging at the gates, it was oddly quiet. Which was strange … to say the least. She had expected, _at least_ , a token guard patrolling the hallways. Honestly, she was actually a little disappointed. If she had known it was this simple to sneak into the castle she would have done it ages ago. Though, as her loyal bodyguard touched down on the ground with a _clang_ perhaps it was better that she hadn’t tried it before.

Shuddering a little at the noise, she quickly shook it off and stealthily made her way to her destination, unaware of what might lie ahead. She had been waiting for this day for a long time, to get the last piece of her beloved’s soul. She followed it all the way here, hoping she could get it and bring back the person she loved most in this world. While she wanted to expect the best, she also knew to expect the worst. Life had a way of constantly disappointing. And yet, despite all of the warnings in her head, she chose to be more hopeful than not. Finally, _finally_ , she would piece her life back together.

She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath and centering herself. It wouldn’t do to get distracted by the possibilities. A small gesture of her hand and a mumbled incantation allowed her to sense other magical objects and beings. She ignored the massive amount of magical energy at the castle’s front gates and set off towards the small source of energy she could feel deeper in the castle. The closer she drew to the piece, the harder it pulled her toward it. It wasn’t something she could ignore if she wanted to. Once she arrived at its destination, her heart palpitated against her chest. Before she could get her hand on the door, she took a split second to think about the consequences of her actions, but none came to mind. She was doing this for _them_ not for her selfish, lonely needs. Wasn’t she?

There wasn’t time to ponder that question as her hand reached the gilded doorknob and turned it. When she got into the room, it was vast with various portraits on the walls of men and women who all looked the same. Her attention was immediately diverted from them as she began to look around for the last piece of Fareeha’s soul. But where could it be? The only things in the room were random floor-to-ceiling pillars, old dusty armor, and the paintings on the wall. Was her intuition wrong? Had the sensory spell led her astray? Had her judgement been clouded by her _need_? “No!” she whispered to herself. “It has to be here.” Just as she said that, there was movement at the corner of her eye. At first, Angela merely thought it was the Possessed making its way into the room behind her … but as she turned, light forming in the palm of her hand to illuminate the room, she saw no one.

 _I must be thinking too hard_. Taking a few steps further into the room, she began to examine everything, tilting the portraits, taking them off the wall and replacing it. Anything that moved, she touched…and then, out of the corner of her eye she saw movement again. Standing at attention, she refused to be played with like a mouse. “Show yourself!” she demanded.

“Who are you to be trespassing upon the Lord of Adlersbrunn’s land?” A disembodied voice demanded, seemingly coming from all around her. It was also strangely familiar, as if she should recognize it from so long ago. But it couldn’t be possible? Could it?

“I am the Witch of the Wilds,” Angela responded, eyes narrowing. “And I will not be toyed with as if I am a child!” She waited several heartbeats waiting for a response, and when nothing was forthcoming – her anger snapped. “SHOW YOURSELF!” She demanded once again, slamming her broom against the ground. Her eyes glowed brightly and translucent golden wings flared out behind her for a brief moment.

Immediately, the room lit up teal and clanking sounded from behind her. She turned around and her breath caught in her throat. There in the middle of a suit of armor, was the missing piece of Fareeha’s soul. She closed the distance between the two of them and reached her hand forward to grab the missing piece. At last, she would have her Fareeha back. Nothing else would matter now.

But as she reached her hand forward, it was as if the armor had a mind of its own. It took two steps back and the disembodied voice from earlier spoke loud and full of demand. “How dare you touch the King’s Armor?”

For a moment Angela was taken aback. Did Fareeha really think she was the king’s armor? “I have come to bring you back to where you belong,” Angela all but begged. “You are not this _armor_. You are Fareeha, the love of my life. Don’t you remember me? Angela? _Your angel_? Please, come home with me.” She could feel the tears start to sting her eyes and her voice break, yet Angela continued on. “I can fix you! I can restore you to your proper body. Don’t you want to be whole again?”

“No,” The Enchanted Armor stated. It was spoken with such certainty and resolve that Angela didn’t even realize what was said. “I swore an oath to the Lord of this castle that I would protect it and all those who dwell upon his land. I _cannot_ abandon my duty.”

Angela gritted her teeth, grief and despair instantaneously turning to anger and rage. There it was again … that stupid gods forsaken honor and justice. That same sense of honor and justice that got her killed in the first place. Why couldn’t this shard of Fareeha’s soul be like all the others?! Why didn’t it understand what Angela was offering it? Why couldn’t this shard understand that Angela was offering it the chance to _be together again for eternity_?! Well, if this shard of Fareeha’s soul wasn’t willing to be bound back to its original body and be whole … then Angela would _make it_.

“I don’t need your permission!” Angela raged, drawing her arm back, eyes glowing a sickly yellow. A green aura encased her hand as she drew the necromantic energy to her, and she slammed it into the Enchanted Armor’s breastplate. “ _Lată ceea ce numiți acasă Piesa care lipsește de la adâncul sufletului tău Este spulberat odată și niciodată Te legez cu tine Ia-ți corpul și consumă-l înăuntru!_ ” she chanted, translucent golden wings flaring out behind her as she poured all of her power into it. The force of her spell exploded outwards, encasing everyone within its golden glow.

\--------------------

The Rime – or Sombra, as she allowed some to call her – crouched upon the battlements, watching as the defenders of the castle battled against the Witch’s other allies. The Banshee’s screams disorientated the defenders while healing the Witch’s allies. The Jiangshi’s frost slowed the defenders’ reflexes, allowing Junkenstein and his Monster to wreak havoc. The Swamp Monster’s armored and magically enhanced fist tore through the defenders, collapsing armor and ribs alike.

Sombra glanced over her shoulder at the Summoner; the other dragon merely stood there – arms crossed over her chest and completely impassive. Sombra couldn’t help the smirk which spread across her face. There was such an odd beauty to the fire dragon. Within the darkness of the night, the Summoner’s molten skin glowed brightly – a testament to the strength of her flames. The glow within her pulsated as if it were a beating heart and as majestic as the Summoner was in all her glory, Sombra couldn’t help but notice how it enhanced her entire being. Sombra was immediately mesmerized.

It was nothing like what Sombra was used to. Make no mistake, ice and snow had its own magnificence, yet it could not shine so brightly on its own. It relied heavily on the light of others for its true beauty to shine. Reflecting and sparkling in the light of the sun to be truly breathtaking and magical. Yet, was that the reason Sombra was drawn to the other dragon? Or was it something more?

Sure, the Rime enjoyed getting under the Summoner’s skin, disturbing just the right amount of the fire dragon’s precious order. Still, there must have been more to why she was so drawn to the Summoner. As much as she loved to sow chaos – she did that to everyone – what kept bringing her back to the fire dragon?

 _“Alla till mig!”_ One of the defenders bellowed – a Shieldmaiden, if Sombra’s eyes weren’t playing tricks on her – drew her attention back towards the fight. The Rime narrowed her eyes; she couldn’t tell if it was some type of magic which radiated from the Shieldmaiden’s banner or just some clever mortal trick. Well, whatever it was, it appeared to be rallying the defenders.

They certainly couldn’t have the Witch’s forces pushed back … now could they? Sombra turned back towards the Summoner, smirking as she said, “Shall we join the fray and show them the true might of the dragons?”

The Summoner strode forward without a word, Junkenstein’s zomnics swarmed around her, charging forward towards the castle’s defenders. The Summoner continued forward, uncaring of the defenders’ attacks upon her – her dragon scales more than enough to protect – her armored left arm was alit with the dragon’s flame as she chanted, _“Yahí param vaastavikita hai!”_ Her voice echoed across the battlefield as a shimmering blue field of magic energy cut its way across the battlefield, the defender’s attacks bouncing harmlessly off it.

Sombra’s smirk stretched across her face and she dashed down the battlements herself, calling upon her magic to fade from view. Vaulting off the defender’s barricade, Sombra leapt up into the air gathering her magic about her, _“Apagando las luces!”_ The ice magic exploded outwards encasing all the defenders in a thin coating of ice. It wasn’t enough to stop the defenders from moving – not like the Jiangshi’s frost could – but it was enough to slow their reaction so the zomnic swarm could close in.

Yet before any other action could be taken, a magical golden glow exploded out of the castle, blinding foe and ally alike.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Witch's faithful bodyguard is made whole again, yet with an intact soul, how will the Possessed react to being alive again.

Fareeha’s first thought was that she was cold. Her second thought was that … she could _think_? Why was the fact she could think so surprising to herself? What could have possibly happened to her that would cause this kind of reaction? She tried to remember, yet it constantly eluded her. It was as if she had just awoken from a long sleep and was trying to remember the contents of a dream.

Everything was fuzzy … her memories … her senses … even her own thoughts felt out of order. She opened her eyes – at least she hoped she did, it was so hard to tell. Everything was blurred as if she had stared into the sun’s glare too long. Which was impossible … wasn’t it? Through the blurriness of her vision, she could barely make out the stonework of some type of building – a castle, maybe? So then if she wasn’t outdoors, what impaired her ability to see?

Sluggishly and with great difficulty – as if she had forgotten how to move on her own – she brought her hand up in front of her face. It was then, as if by some miracle, her vision cleared.

The first thing she noticed was the ancient armor of her homeland. The golden armor was polished to a brilliant shine yet still bore all the scars of battles long fought. The second thing she noticed was her bare skin which was visible through the armor. It was such a pale and unnatural color that Fareeha almost didn’t believe it was her own. The dark skin which indicated her Egyptian heritage was nowhere to be found. In its place was a color so sickly it appeared as if her hand had been coated in ash. The third thing she noticed was the strange purple mist-like aura emanating from her skin. What had happened to her?!?

She stumbled forward, nearly crashing into a suit of armor yet catching herself before she did. There, within the polished steel, her reflection stared back at her. At least her hair remained unchanged – black, though it seemed darker, with two small braids framing her face and adorned with the gold ornaments her mother had gifted her. Her eyes, however, was what truly drew her attention. They were pure white with no pupil or iris, and was she imagining things or was her skin cracked around the edges? She narrowed her eyes – no, it was definitely cracked and blackened. It was almost as if the skin was decaying, like she was dea… everything came rushing back.

She clutched her head and staggered backwards at the onrush of memories. It all came flooding back to her, as if a massive dam had come crumbling down. The Lord of Adlersbrunn finding her … swearing fealty to him … protecting his lands from the foul beasts which roamed the forests—even the rapid werewolf that… _killed_ …her. Yet there were other memories that returned as well. Memories of a golden-haired woman … of the forest the strange woman called home … of the hut where they lived together in peace … of the time they shared together … of the love they shared that transcended even life and … and … and _death_.

Her head whipped around, searching out the one person she would travel the world and back again for. Several heart wrenching moments later, Fareeha finally looked upon the only other person in the room. There she stood, “The Witch of the Wilds” as so many people called her. Yet Fareeha had never seen a witch, had only ever seen a benevolent healer. The other woman had such a hopeful expression upon her face, yet Fareeha could clearly see the concern within the Witch’s blue eyes.

“An…ge…la,” Fareeha rasped, her voice shaky and cracked as if she hadn’t spoken in ages. She reached out towards Angela, filled with an undeniable urge to comfort the other woman.

“How are you feeling, Fareeha?” Angela asked. Fareeha could hear hesitancy laced in the other woman’s voice, as if she were suddenly chiding herself. But why? Whatever it was, Fareeha was sure Angela would let it spill … eventually.

Fareeha froze in her tracks, the simple question catching her off guard. How did she feel? She placed her hand upon her chest, expecting to feel the gentle rise and fall of breaths … yet she felt nothing of the sort. She closed her eyes, trying to hear her heartbeat and she could neither feel it nor hear it. Well, she supposed, if there had been any doubt within her mind that she was, in fact, dead … there was none now. She should have felt some type of concern, or fear, or panic over the fact that she was – for all intents and purposes – a walking corpse. Yet there was none of that; no fear, no panic, no distress over anything.

“I’m … fine,” she hesitated, still unsure of everything that had happened in such a short time. “What happened to me?”

Angela fiddled with her hair, as if she was nervous about answering the question. Fareeha guessed that, if she could feel her emotions, she should have been concerned that the other woman wasn’t answering. In all the time they had spent together, Angela had never hesitated to answer any of her questions. “Please, Angela, tell me what happened?”

“I fixed you,” Angela finally replied, a smile upon her lips.

“Fixed me?” Fareeha stammered, her brow furrowed as she tried to understand.

“Yes, I fixed you,” the Witch repeated, closing the distance between them, taking Fareeha’s hands within her own. “I restored your soul to your body! I gave you your life back!”

Angela sounded so happy, so ecstatic, that it was hard not to be as well. She was alive and she could once again be with the woman she loved. They could go back to Angela’s hut and live in peace. Yet even as these thoughts filled her with happiness, she could not banish what she had seen earlier. The ashen color of her skin, the strange mist-like aura which emanated from her body, the dead and decaying look of her eyes, the fact her lungs no longer filled with air, her heart no longer beating within her chest. These things filled her mind until all else had faded away.

Fareeha released Angela’s hands and stumbled backwards, her eyes wide with realization. “My life back?” If she had been truly alive, Fareeha thought, there would have been tears in her own eyes.

The Witch reached out to her, yet Fareeha retreated from the contact. “Aren’t you happy?” Angela’s voice was cracked with dread, as if she was afraid of the answer. “You’re alive! We can finally be together for the rest of eternity! We can live together in peace!”

“Alive!?!” Fareeha placed a hand over her non-beating heart. “This isn’t being alive!”

“Don’t you understand what I’ve done for you?!” Angela said, and Fareeha could see the tears at the edges of the other woman’s eyes. Fareeha prayed she was imagining the anger starting to creep into the other woman’s voice.

Tears would’ve filled Fareeha’s eyes too, if she could cry. She was so torn. On the one hand, yes she was happy; she could spend the rest of her existence with the woman she loved without a care in the world. On the other hand, what good was it being a living corpse? She couldn’t feel a damned thing. Sure she remembered what those feelings and emotions might have felt like once upon a time, but not now.

“Don’t you understand what you’ve _done to me_?!” Fareeha asked, her voice filled with what might have been anger when she was alive. “Angela, I am _not_ alive! I’m not even breathing! There is no heart beating in my chest!” Fareeha drummed her hand on her chest for emphasis. “You have emotions, a beating heart … blood running through your veins. What do I have!?” Fareeha took several breaths and watched as Angela wiped at the corner of her eyes.

“My eternal, undying love?” Angela said her voice so quiet Fareeha could barely hear her. Angela wrapped her arms around herself. “I … I didn’t think … I … I couldn’t let you die.”

Fareeha could see several emotions running through the other woman’s eyes. There was regret there, yes, but there was something else within those blue eyes that Fareeha could not place just yet. “Help me understand.”

Angela took a deep breath even as she cleared the last of her tears, “You are everything to me, Fareeha. You are all of me – the reason I breathe, the good that I do.” Angela’s eyes hardened and Fareeha could see the other woman’s fists tighten. “I could not just let you die like that. I couldn’t let anything take you away from me – for any reason. So I acted and tried to bring you back to life – I’ve succeeded!”

Once again, if Fareeha had been alive, she supposed there would have been tears in her own eyes. Part of her understood where Angela was coming from, she was unsure what she would have done in her own grief if their roles had been reversed. She closed her eyes and tried to remember the love they shared felt like. Once upon a time it would have been easy but now … now it wasn’t. Fareeha backed away, a small part of her wondering if the heavy feeling in her stomach might have been grief. “No,” Fareeha said, shaking her head. “You didn’t resurrect me for my sake; you didn’t even resurrect me for our sake.” If her lungs worked, Fareeha expected she would have drawn in a deep breath as she continued, “You did this for your own selfish needs.”

“NO!” Angela screamed. “I did this for US! All I did was so that we could be together!”

“I may have believed that once, but now I’m not so sure.” Fareeha turned her back on Angela, moving towards the door. “I need time to come to terms with all of this.”

“Stop.” Angela’s voice cracked like a whip, freezing Fareeha in her tracks. “You forget, my dearest Fareeha,” Angela’s voice took on such a sinister edge it sent a chill down her spine. “I am the Witch of the Wilds and a Master of Necromancy! _I will not lose you again_!” Angela’s voice seemed to echo, even as her eyes glowed a sickly yellow.

Whatever else Angela was going to do was interrupted by the door exploding. Through the dust and debris a shadow of a massive man could be seen, a great warhammer held in his hands. Fareeha knew, even as she drew her khopesh, the Lord of Adlersbrunn stood before them … and he did not look happy.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Rime and the Summoner attempt to rescue the Witch of the Wilds and are confronted by the four most famous Hunters.

Sombra couldn’t help but stare in awe in the direction of the other dragon. Though blinded, she could hear – and oddly feel – the electrifying fluidity in which the other dragon continued to engage in the fight they were having. How, she was uncertain, but one thing was for sure: she never wanted to get on the Summoner’s bad side.

“What the hell just happened?” The voice came from behind her and she rolled her eyes, not that the idiot could see.

“Well hmmm…let’s see…take a look around. _Oh wait!_ That’s right! _We can’t!_ ”

“Do you have to be sarcastic _all_ the time?” she heard the Reaper respond.

“Do you always have to ask _stupid questions_?” she fired back.

“Enough of the petty squabbling,” the Banshee snapped. “We still have a fight to win.”

Sombra could feel the Banshee’s own healing magic wash over her. While not as powerful as the Witch’s spell, it was enough to make their wounds disappear. As Sombra’s vision cleared, she could see that the castle’s defenders were still disoriented. Sombra smirked, gathering her powers within and readying to unleash chaos. Yet before she could, she felt a hot, searing hand placed upon her shoulder. She glanced behind her, staring into the blazing eyes of the Summoner.

“Something’s not right,” the other dragon said. “Why has the Witch of the wilds not shown herself yet?”

Reaper nodded, readying his shotguns. “Something is definitely amiss, let’s get to the bottom of it.”

Sombra nodded; the Summoner had a point, something was wrong. The Witch had never left them to battle alone, not knowing her healing powers were superior to those of the Banshee. _What didn’t the Witch tell us_? Whatever she omitted, Sombra hoped she had a good reason, otherwise Sombra was about to make the dumbest, loyal decision.

She took only a few steps forward before a soft, yet firm hand gripped her, quickening the pace of heartbeat. After several moments, which she used to calm herself, she turned to the other dragon. “What are you doing?”

“You’re not thinking about going in there, _are you_?”

Though Sombra could hear – and understand – the concern the other woman had, the Witch of the Wilds was most likely in danger and needed their help. She couldn’t just ignore it. “Actually, I am…” Sombra was beyond ready to hold her ground if needed.

“Then I’m going with you,” the other dragon said, much to Sombra’s surprise.

Sombra inclined her head. “As you wish. Just don’t get in my way. Understood?”

“Understood,” the dragon responded. “As long as you remember: We are on the same team and I _will_ protect you.”

With that, Sombra dashed through the defender’s line, not even bothering to fade from their blinded view. She could feel, rather than see, the Summoner follow her. For a brief moment, crystalline wings appeared upon her back; with one mighty beat of the wings, Sombra vaulted through one of the castle’s great windows. Landing in a crouch, her wings fading into her skin, she glanced behind with a smirk. It took all of her willpower to keep it in place as she took in the sight before her.

The Summoner glided down, landing gracefully, wrapping her own wings around her waist. Sombra was once again struck by how majestic the fire dragon was. She stood taller than the tallest beast – even though she was dwarfed by it – her shoulders square and wide, a fire filled with fight arcing through her body, and while Sombra stared in awe, she didn’t dare voice her admiration aloud.

Without as much as a whisper, both dragons listened around them, using their olfactory and hearing senses so as not to alarm their enemies of their arrival. If the Witch was certainly in danger, they didn’t want to draw attention to her rescuers. Listening with all intent, the dragons finally heard where the commotion was, and stealthily went on to rescue their leader.

They had barely gone through several corridors, when Sombra stopped short. There was an arrow imbedded in the wall where her head would have been had she not stopped. Looking down the hallway, it was only because of her heightened senses that Sombra could see who stood in their way. While it was the Rime’s first time assaulting the castle, she had no trouble recognizing them. There was the Archer from the land far off to the east, and even from this distance Sombra could smell the demon blood coursing through his veins. Next to him was the Gunslinger from the west, his prosthetic right arm glowing faintly. Sombra’s gaze nearly passed over the Viking, yet she knew his dwarf-like size belied the strength which made him famous. Lastly, the most famous of them all, was the Alchemist: her face hidden behind a mask of the Egyptian goddess, Bastet.

Her instincts must have been right. If these hunters were here – and not at the frontline defense – then something was really off. Had they just walked into a trap? Or had the Witch of the Wilds walked right into one? Neither was a pleasant thought, though Sombra suspected these hunters were more interested in keeping people away…rather than _trapping_ people. Either way, the group of hunters was in their way and needed to be dealt with. Unfortunately, the castle’s hallways were too cramped for any fighting to take place. Sharing a quick look with the Summoner, the two dragons ran down another hallway.

“Come get us if you can, assholes!” Sombra called over her shoulder, hoping to antagonize them. Judging from the rapid footfalls, the Hunters were following close behind.

It only took several turns before the two dragons burst into what appeared to be a throne room. While certainly not ideal, it would have to do. Closing the doors behind them, they used their senses to scan the room for the best place to lure the hunters in to sabotage or ambush. Sombra cloaked herself within her magicks, even as the Summoner moved behind one of the massive pillars. They didn’t have long to wait as the great doors swung open.

Sombra stepped further into the shadows as the hunters slowly made their way in. The Gunslinger was the first to enter; his pistol raised and at the ready, followed closely by the Viking. Both the Archer and the Alchemist remained by the door, their weapons sweeping the room. Sombra waited until the Gunslinger and Viking were past the pillar where the Summoner was hiding before she sprang into action.

Sombra launched dozens of razor sharp icicles at the Archer and Alchemist, even before she was completely visible. Predictably, the hunters rolled out of the way, yet that worked just as fine for Sombra. She spun on her heel, reaching out with her magic and incased the Viking in a thin layer of ice. As the Gunslinger turned to face her, the Summoner stepped out of hiding, a ball of dragon fire held in her palm. She hurled it at the hunters, the ball of fire exploding at their feet and sending them flying. Smirking, Sombra jumped to the side, fading from view before her feet touched the ground.

The Rime rolled to the side, several arrows imbedding into the floor where she had been. She was almost impressed that the Archer was able to keep up with her movements, even though she was invisible. Then she noticed the first arrow she dodged, and the symbols carved into the shaft. She wasn’t fluent in Japanese Kanji, but she could have sworn that was the Kanji for “reveal.” Well, that would explain how he was able to follow her movements. Wait…if the Archer could see her, did that mean—

A glass vial shattered at her feet, its contents splattering all over her. Sombra had no idea what was in the concoction that coated her, but she could already feel her diamond hard scales weakening and melting. Trying to reach out to the Summoner with what power she had left was proven futile as moments later she felt something hit her neck. Glancing up, she expected to see the Archer and Alchemist with their weapons turned on her. Instead, their attention was on the Summoner – the other dragon’s back to them. Sombra could feel the magick gather around the Archer’s bow as he chanted: “ _Ryu ga waga teki wo kurau!_ ”

Twin dragons burst from the Archer’s bow spiraling toward the Summoner. The energy dragons tore through the Summoner, yet they didn’t harm her. Instead, they drained her of her magickal reserves, leaving her vulnerable. The Alchemist squeezed the trigger of her rifle and Sombra dashed to her feet.

The _bang_ of a gunshot reverberated throughout the room.

Sombra collapsed into the Summoner’s arms, blood slowly oozing from the wound in her chest. Maybe it was the shock of actually being hurt, but whatever it was the Alchemist hit her with, her vision grew blurry and it was increasingly hard to stay awake. As her vision turned completely black, the last image Sombra saw was the Summoner taking on her true form: the majestic fire dragon rearing with unbridle rage.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Lord of Adlersbrunn confronts the Witch of the Wilds and it will end once and for all ... one way or another.

The Lord of Adlersbrunn towered over them, rage radiating off him. Fareeha tightened her grip on her khopesh, as she unconsciously took a step back. She could remember all the stories that had been told about the Lord of Adlersbrunn. Could remember the tales of a mighty warrior and his massive warhammer. How many foes had been crushed by it? How many beasts had been slain? She wasn’t sure if she could win in a fight against him. Hells, Fareeha wasn’t even sure she should fight him, after all she had …

“I finally have you now, witch,” the Lord’s voice boomed. “For too long have you desecrated these lands with your foul deeds!” He jabbed his warhammer at Angela as he stalked forward, “And I will finally have revenge for your most horrible deed yet.”

Had her lungs worked, Fareeha would have sucked in a breath as he looked at her. The expression upon his face a mix of sadness and resignation. “I will free you from this cursed life, little falcon.” The Lord of Adlersbrunn raised his mighty warhammer high … and brought it down upon the Witch of the Wilds.

“Fareeha protect me!” It was a plea more than a command, and Fareeha found herself reacting all the same.

The warhammer slammed down upon her khopesh, the force of the attack nearly driving her to her knees. Gritting her teeth, Fareeha called upon all her strength and pushed him away. Was that anger or fear boiling in her veins? But toward who - or what? At Angela for her lies? At the Lord of Adlersbrunn rushing at the Witch of the Wilds? Or was it directed at herself for heeding Angela’s plea and fearing the Lord of Adlersbrunn? Then again, Angela hadn’t commanded her as she might’ve done before. Instead, Fareeha could feel the decision was of her own accord. Angela had practically begged for her to be at her side.

“I know this is not you, my little falcon,” The Lord of Adlersbrunn said. “I will free your body from the Witch’s control even if I have to fight you.”

From the Witch’s control? Did the Lord of Adlersbrunn not know that the Witch was not controlling her movements? That at this very moment his ‘little falcon’ - who was not his to begin with - was not controlled by anyone. She was saving Angela because … well … why was she saving Angela?

Didn’t she and Angela just argue about the whole resurrection thing? Didn’t she just tell Angela she was being selfish for doing this? But Angela wasn’t exactly being selfish, was she? Fareeha sighed, right now none of that mattered, what mattered was stopping the Lord of Adlersbrunn. As he stood there stupefied, quite obviously due to the rage in his little falcon’s eyes. She charged forward, bringing her blade to bear against him.

The Lord of Adlersbrunn blocked the attack and pushed her back, immediately following up with his own attack. Fareeha jumped over the warhammer, yet he used the momentum of the swing to bring his hammer around for another attack. This time she couldn’t dodge, the hammer struck true. Fareeha was thrown into a wall, the sound of bones cracking fueling the raw emotions roaring back to life within her undead heart. Yet she got back to her feet, not feeling any pain that surely should have been there. Perhaps the only good thing about being a walking corpse was that she felt no pain.

“Look at what the Witch has done to your body, little falcon.” The Lord of Adlersbrunn lamented, “She has defiled your very being.”

“She has defiled nothing,” Fareeha rasped.

“Those are her words, not yours little falcon.”

“Angela is not controlling me!” Why couldn’t he understand that?!

“ _Ranile se repara_!” The Witch of the Wilds chanted, drawing their attention to her. Her eyes glowed a brilliant gold, a magic sigil extending from the tip of her broom and Fareeha could feel all her wounds stitch back together.  “I finally have her back! I won’t let you take her away again!” The sigil turned a bright blue as she chanted, “ _Putere impuls_!”

Fareeha had nearly forgotten what Angela’s magick felt like. It was always so warm, like being wrapped up in the sun’s rays on a summer morn. Or like being held in your lover’s arms. The thought bubbled up unhindered, nearly surprising Fareeha. Even after everything that Angela had done to her, Fareeha couldn’t find it within herself to disagree. Strengthened by the Witch’s magick, Fareeha charged at the Lord of Adlersbrunn.

They traded blows back and forth. The Lord blocked her strikes upon the shaft of his warhammer while she dodged around his. Even empowered by the Witch’s magick and the fact her corpse-like body apparently didn’t feel exhaustion anymore - Fareeha wasn’t sure how much longer she could fight. The lord of Adlersbrunn was proving just how great of a warrior he still was. Her concentration must have slipped - or she had miscalculated his strike - his warhammer slammed into her chest once again. The strike crushed armor and bones alike and Fareeha slammed into the wall once more, crumbling to the floor and unable to move.

The Lord of Adlersbrunn turned to face the Witch, “I will finally have revenge for all that you have done!”

Even through her blurry and darkening vision, Angela’s eyes glowed a bright gold. “You forget, Lord of Adlersbrunn, with whom you are dealing with!” Translucent golden wings flared out behind her as she floated off the ground, her voice echoing throughout the room. “I am the Witch of the Wilds and _servitorii mei nu mor niciodata_!”

The effect of whatever spell Angela cast was instantaneous, Fareeha found herself being lifted into the air and she could feel wings unfold behind her. She could feel all her wounds heal within an instant, even her armor was repaired. As if acting on instinct alone, Fareeha beat her magical wings to stay aloft. A laugh bubbled its way past her lips; whatever the spell was, Fareeha felt invincible so long as she stayed near Angela.

“What’s so funny?!” The Lord of Adlersbrunn demanded.

It was Angela’s turn to chuckle, though Fareeha could hear the darker nature. “Don’t you understand? You’ve lost.” Angela’s voice was mocking and condescending at the same time. “You can break Fareeha’s body as many times as you want … I’ll just heal the wounds. You can even kill your precious little falcon over and over and over and over again … I’ll just bring her back to life!”

“Then I’ll just have to kill you!” he raged, bringing his warhammer around for another attack.

With a mighty beat of her wings, Fareeha surged forward, catching the strike upon her blade. Pushing him back, Fareeha pressed the attack, beating against his defenses. This time, as she and the Lord traded blows Fareeha remained in the air, using her magical wings to her advantage. As she dodged over one strike, she’d beat her wings to evade the follow up strike. She even used them to enhance the strength of her attacks by adding momentum to her movements. She slammed her khopesh against the shaft of his warhammer again and again and again until, finally - with a mighty crack - it shattered. Her blade sliced through his armor, deep enough to wound yet shallow enough to prevent from being fatal, forcing the Lord of Adlersbrunn to his knees.

Fareeha hovered before him, the tip of her khopesh held at his throat. “You’ve lost, oh Lord of Adlersbrunn.” Angela said from behind her. “Now I will finally have revenge against you for taking my beloved Fareeha away from me!” Out of the corner of her eye, Fareeha saw Angela walk into view with a sneer upon her face. “Now, end him once and for all, Fareeha, so that we may finally be together for eternity!”

Fareeha drew back her khopesh, ready to slice open his neck … yet her arms would not budge. Kneeling before her she did not see a man who ruined her life. All she could see was the kind man who swore her into his service. All she could see was the man who loved her mother more than anything in the world. All she could see was the man who had loved her as if she was his own. All she could see was a broken man buried alive in grief and anger. How could she end his life? Knowing what kind of man the Lord of Adlersbrunn really was.

“No.” Fareeha stated, lowering her arms and dropping fully to the ground, the magical wings dissolving away. “I will not kill a defenseless person.”

Angela’s eyes glowed a sickly yellow, and Fareeha could hear the anger set in, “You will kill the Lord of Adlersbrunn!”

There was something else laced within Angela’s words, and Fareeha found her arms raising her khopesh against her will. “No.” She whispered, even as she raised the blade over her head. “No.” She said, gazing into the resigned eyes of the Lord of Adlersbrunn. “NO!” She shouted, as she brought the blade down. “I said I WILL NOT KILL HIM!” She shouted as her blade was embedded into the floor. Fareeha drew in ragged breaths feeling as if she had just stopped a boulder from rolling downhill. “What was that?” she breathed out, gazing at Angela. It took her a full minute before Fareeha realized Angela must have done something. “What did you do to me?!” Fareeha shouted, grabbing the Witch by her collar.

“I’m sorry, my love, but I will have my vengeance on the Lord of Adlersbrunn for taking you away from me.” Angela tenderly placed a hand on Fareeha’s check. “Please do remember, beloved, who and what I am and while I love you dearly … you are still a walking corpse.” Her eyes flashed that sickly green again, “Now be a dear and let go of me.”

Fareeha released her hold of Angela, surprised at herself. Why did she do that? She was angry and needed answers. She needed to know what Angela had done and following orders wasn’t going to get them. So then why had she done as Angela had said? Something that Angela had said earlier sprung to mind - ‘I am the Witch of the Wilds and a Master of Necromancy’ and ‘You are still a walking corpse’. “You’re using your magick to control my actions,” Fareeha breathed out.

The Lord of Adlersbrunn chuckled, drawing their attention, “And so the Witch shows who she truly is.”

Angela dusted off her shoulders, “Yes, well - I hate to use it on you, my love, but I’m doing it for your own good.”

“How is forcing me to do things against my will for my own good?” Fareeha raged.

Angela’s expression hardened, glaring at the Lord of Adlersbrunn. “So long as he lives he will continue to come after us and we’ll never be able to live in peace.”

The Lord let loose a hollow laugh, “You are the one who’s been attacking my castle these past few years. I have never tried confronting you before tonight.”

It was Angela’s turn to laugh, “Do you take me for a fool?! I know that you sent the Alchemist to hound me while I gathered the shards of Fareeha’s soul.”

“What did you expect? That she would just let you defile her daughter’s body!” The Lord snapped back.

“And if you hadn’t forced her into your service she never would have died!” Angela wailed, and Fareeha could see the tears which prickled at the Witch’s eyes. Angela stormed away from them, her arms wrapped tightly around herself. “All I want is to be left alone and live out my life with the woman I love … WHY DOES NO ONE UNDERSTAND!”

Fareeha reached out towards the other woman, wanting to comfort yet unsure of what to say. Her movements froze as her gaze locked on the unnatural tone of her skin. She should be angry at Angela for bringing her back to life and turned into a walking corpse. Where was all that anger and uncertainty? Yet could she truly blame the Witch for her actions? Fareeha wasn’t sure what grief would make her do if she ever lost Angela. As much as her sense of honor and justice demanded she do the right thing … Fareeha knew grief and anger was a deadly combination.

Was she going to forgive Angela for all that the Witch had done to her? Had she asked herself that question moments ago, she would have said no. She had been prepared to turn her back and leave the only woman she had ever truly loved. Yet now, a part of her buried deep within knew that wasn’t true anymore. Even after everything that Angela had done … Fareeha still loved the woman they called the Witch of the Wilds.

It was strange, really, because how could she really trust Angela to not use her magick to control her again? Her mind screamed at her that she couldn’t. After all, Angela had done just that tonight. Her non-beating heart said otherwise. In all truth she wasn’t sure which to believe … yet a part deep within her soul already knew the answer.

Her gaze returned to the Lord of Adlersbrunn, to the man she almost called father. She could see the hurt and sadness plain within his eyes. She wondered briefly if he would ever forgive what she was about to do. Her gaze returned to Angela, knowing within her non-beating heart what she must do and she had never been more certain.

Fareeha knelt behind the other woman - and bowed her head. “I, Fareeha Amari, do swear upon my immortal soul to serve and protect you; to stand by your side as your loyal and unwavering bodyguard; To fight against all those who call you enemy and would dare bring you harm; I swear this to you, Angela Zeigler, oh Witch of the Wilds.” Fareeha could almost feel magick more ancient than anything she could possibly imagine bind her words - and she didn’t regret a thing.


End file.
